


Sharpe's Sunrise

by InkSiren



Series: Sharpe's Fanfic [20]
Category: Sharpe (TV), Sharpe - All Media Types, Sharpe Series - Bernard Cornwell
Genre: Fear, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Platonic Cuddling, Team as Family, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-13 20:14:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28784013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InkSiren/pseuds/InkSiren
Summary: Richard doesn't need to speak to tell Patrick he's scared he won't see the dawn.
Series: Sharpe's Fanfic [20]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2034673
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	Sharpe's Sunrise

**Author's Note:**

> I was thinking about Boromir which had me thinking in angst circles which lead me back to Sharpe because now I've made it to Sharpe's Prey and I'm just not getting out of the fixation for a while alright.

They're behind enemy lines, and Richard is in pain. He's taken no less than three bullets, and with the cold seeping through him and the ache deep into his marrow he's struggling to imagine he'll live to see dawn.

The night is very dark.

"Pat?" He's shivering, his breath fogging weakly. 

"Aye sir, I'm here." Patrick drops to one knee near him, arms bloody and full of sticks for a meager fire. "How're you feeling?"

Richard shudders and closes his eyes, feels a tear strike down his face. Even in this bad light, Patrick must see it.

"Hold on there sir," he says, sympathy in every word. "You'll feel better once it's not so dark."

A strong hand squeezes his shoulder, and he soon hears the crackling of burning wood. 

He slowly opens his eyes, clutching the blanket around himself and wondering if his wounds are still trickling. He can feel his heart plodding a laboured pace in his chest, and it's the first time he's felt tired all the way to that core. 

The fire is a comforting bright spot and it makes a lump in his throat because he fears it is the last light he will see.

That dark thought gets startled by the sudden awareness of Patrick settling next to him, a gentle hand lifting his head to look at his eyes and feel under his jaw for a weakening pulse. 

It must scare Patrick too, but he masks it. 

Mostly.

"There you are sir," he says, reaching over to pull the blanket and jacket closer around Richard's chest. Suddenly desperate for comfort, Richard leans against Patrick's shoulder and traps his hand beneath his own, pressing it closer with a trembling strength. 

Patrick stills for a moment, then slowly, shifts his hand beneath Richard's to burrow deeper beneath blanket and jacket and shirt until the roughness of his palm is pressed against skin. Richard lets out a sigh like it's his last breath. 

Patrick feels his Major relax against him, and for a moment there's utter stillness. 

Then in his unconsciousness weariness gives way to healing, and he draws another breath. His heart gives another beat, and Patrick breathes with him. His own heart is pounding. 

Richard's hand is still holding onto Patrick's, pressing his palm into his chest like it's what's keeping him warm. Patrick doesn't dare move it. 

At dawn, Richard's first awareness is of his heart throbbing sleepy and warm beneath Patrick's hand. For a moment the pain of his wounds stays asleep and he's able to bask in that sensation, head still pillowed against Patrick's shoulder and their hands pressed together in the tangle of blankets and uniform. 

He slowly opens his eyes, feels Patrick stir against him, and through the smoke of their dying fire watches the sunrise.


End file.
